6. Ella
6
ELLA
“A little light, don’t you think?” Olivia says, collapsing onto my bed. I turn away from the mirror, my lips stained dark red, and glance at my suitcase. She’s not wrong. For an international trip that includes a wedding, my packing job would make the most fanatic minimalist proud. A few outfits, a couple of books, snacks, and toiletries. It looks like I’m preparing for a weekend trip.
“Adrian told me to pack light.” I shrug and then affect a deep, masculine voice as I finish up my makeup. “ Everything is taken care of .”
Olivia giggles. “I bet it’s all -inclusive.”
I sigh, shaking my head as Olivia waggles her eyebrows.
“ That is not going to happen. I made sure of it. It’s all written down in black and white. No funny business whatsoever. It’s a pure business transaction and nothing else.”
That jawline though… No!
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” she says, glancing at my laptop.
And so it goes. The more I deny it, the more Olivia’s convinced. Although we’ve only known each other for a short time, I’ve learned that once Olivia gets onto a track, it’s best to let her stay the course until it plays out. She’s hard-headed and opinionated but also fiercely loyal, kind, and empathetic. What more could I ask for from a roommate who’s quickly becoming my best friend?
“You know, when you told me you accepted his wild offer, I thought you were crazy.” Olivia peeks at me from over my laptop.
“And now?” I ask, placing everything neatly back into my makeup bag before shoving it into my suitcase.
“I think you’re insane.”
When I look up at her, she flashes a cheesy grin at me, and I laugh.
“For not accepting on the spot. He. Is. Beeeeeautiful. I’d have done it for free. A chance to drag my tongue across those abs?”
“Oooooookay. That’s quite enough.”
I knew I should’ve closed my laptop, but I lost track of time while I was… researching. And now she’s staring at the photos of Adrian from his profile in Forbes. GQ? Esquire? I don’t remember, but they’re the only high-resolution images I could find of him. The only images, really. Apart from that profile, he’s a ghost online. Not that I was stalking him or anything. It was for research purposes only. I’m not going into a business deal with someone blindly. And that’s all this is.
A deal.
A contract.
One party fulfilling their obligations to the other and nothing more.
I slide in next to Olivia and glance at the screen. There he is: Adrian Thorne in his natural habitat. He’s seated on a dark leather couch—the same one I passed in his office yesterday—wearing a charcoal suit a shade lighter than his eyes. His legs are spread wide, elbows resting on his thighs as he knits his fingers together in front of him. Dark hair tousled, eyes ablaze as he stares directly at the camera.
“Just look at that smolder,” she says, fanning herself.
I have. Many, many times. Every time I close my eyes, I can see it etched in my mind. Dark eyes under darker brows, narrowed as they dissect me inch by inch. The sharp edge of his cheekbones. The sharper edge of his jawline. I know the smolder. I know the face. But what Olivia doesn’t understand is how it feels when it’s directed at you. In person.
Sizzling. Lung crushing. Panty— nope!
“What about it?” I ask in a tone that affects nonchalance but is an octave too high.
She gapes at me. “What about it? You know damn well.”
I try to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks and neck, but Olivia sees right through my facade. It’s hard not to when my face is quickly becoming the color of a ripe tomato.
“You know, for an actress, you could do better,” she says, a knowing look on her face. “Maybe that’s why you haven’t?—”
I swat her with a pillow, laughing.
“All I’m saying is that the man is beautiful and you know it. But…” Her gaze drifts lazily as she scrolls through more and more pictures of Adrian. “If you’re not interested, I’ll take your place.”
Just wait until she scrolls far enough to see him working out in his home gym…
Research. Pure research and nothing more.
“I’m very interested. Just not in the same way you are.”
The look she gives me cuts through my bullshit again.
I groan into my hands, my cheeks sizzling to the touch. “Fine. I’m kinda interested in the same way you are.”
“What was that?”
“You know what I said.”
She shakes her head and raises her brows. “I think you need to say it with your chest. Admit it. You kinda like the guy, or else there’s no way you’d be doing this.”
“I also kinda like what I’ll get in return for this date. I’d be crazy not to take it, whether he looks like a Greek god or a troll.”
“Date? You forgot the fake part of it.”
“That was implied,” I groan. “I wrote out the rules. He has to abide by them or I walk. With everything I asked for, mind you.”
She hums. “Sure, but we’ll see how those rules hold up when this guy walks out of the shower with just a towel on.”
Olivia spins the laptop around and there it is—the single shirtless picture of Adrian Thorne as he’s working out. Sweaty. Hot. Muscles galore. The man is Adonis incarnate, and I’m supposed to pretend to be his girlfriend? I swallow as the realization sets in that this may not be as straightforward as I thought.
“I’ll make sure we have separate rooms.”
Olivia laughs, spinning the laptop back around to continue her cyberstalking.
“If I were you, I’d burn the list you sent him. No kissing? What were you thinking?”
My skin flushes for the millionth time as I mentally scan the list in my head. I thought it was a good idea to lay out a few ground rules to make sure we were on the same page with this agreement. Keep things purely platonic. Businesslike. But when I read the email he sent in response, I knew that was going to be difficult.
We’ll negotiate your list on the plane and draw up a refined contract.
Gulp.
“I don’t know,” I tell Olivia. “It’s not like I had a lot of time to think this over. I’ve never been in a fake relationship before.”
“Fake or not—you should be taking advantage of everything this man has to offer.” She taps the computer screen. “Do I have to show you this picture again?”
I sigh. “No need.” It’s imprinted in my mind’s eye. Every muscle. Every curve. Every?—
There’s a forceful knock on the door, and my heart leaps into my throat, a tingling sensation spreading from my core.
Both of us are quiet for what feels like minutes, frozen in place. Waiting… Waiting… Knock, knock, knock.”
“He’s here,” Olivia whispers.
“I know,” I whisper back.
She closes the laptop slowly, both of us cringing when it clicks. She mouths Sorry! and then: “What do we do?”
“We should get up.” I grab my laptop. “Yeah.”
“Yeah. Good idea. We should— wait. Why are we whispering?”
I shake my head as I mouth, “I don’t know. You started it.”
“Go,” Olivia says, shooing me away as he knocks yet again.
It’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience as I slip my laptop into my suitcase and then walk to the front door. I can’t believe what’s waiting for me on the other side. Looming, broody, and no doubt dressed in another suit. I pause in front of the mirror above the landing table, checking myself one last time before I brave the storm I’m no doubt about to be swept into.
“You look ah -mazing,” Olivia says.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
“And stop whispering, he can’t hear us.”
There’s a throat clearing behind the door, followed by that crisp voice that sends tingles rippling across my skin. “I can. I can also smell the cookies burning in your oven.”
“Oh, nonono ,” Olivia squeals, rushing for the kitchen.
I head for the door, trying my best to mask my embarrassment, but when I open the door and see Adrian Thorne, I’m sure I’ve finished my transformation into a vine-ripened tomato.
Everything is hot. Everything is throbbing. And everything is— Dear. Lord !
I’ve never seen a T-shirt and jeans look so sexy before. The slate gray shirt clings to the wide planes of his chest. The veins on his taut forearms meander up the length of his arms, disappearing under his sleeves as they stretch over his biceps. It’s hard not to think about how those arms would feel wrapped around me. Those strong hands. Thick fingers. Gripping, kneading, sliding insi— ohmygod! I’m not exactly sure where that came from. Phew . But it’s clear from the smirk growing on his lips that my face is doing nothing to mask the thoughts racing through me.
I suck in a breath and exhale, attempting to calm my nerves. “You’re… punctual,” I say, after mentally crossing out all the other adjectives that flooded into my mind to describe the man in front of me.
“Time is the most valuable resource,” he says in a low voice that rumbles through my chest. “And I’d never waste another person’s.”
The sincerity in his voice and gaze is comforting as the words rumble out of his mouth. There’s something different about him. I can’t place it. But there’s a warmth about him that was missing in his office.
“Good to know.”
“We have a tight schedule,” he says, grabbing my suitcase. His hand brushes against mine, electricity sparking across my skin and radiating in my core. His eyes meet mine, riveting me in place and stealing my breath. It’s not fair. Not fair at all. A man this ridiculously handsome and wealthy? Billionaires are not supposed to look like this. And no man should ever be able to make me wobble with a single glance. It’s ridiculous how strongly he’s affecting me. He hardly touched me, and my body’s sizzling.
Adrian narrows his eyes and then he turns on his heel and strides for the elevator. “I’ll fill you in once we’re in the air.”
I take a shaky step but have to stop myself when I breathe in his scent. I’m not sure what cologne he’s wearing, but someone needs to fill a portable oxygen canister with it, so I can breathe it in wherever he goes.
This is going to be a loooooong week is all I can think as I watch Adrian make his way down the hallway, my suitcase swinging beside him like a child’s toy.
“Come,” he says over his shoulder.
It’s enough to tear me from my trance. “So demanding.”
“You have no idea.”
Olivia moans beside me, and I nearly jump out of my skin. And when I look at her, I’m not sure if she’s moaning from the cookie she’s munching on or from admiring Adrian.
“Good luck,” Olivia says, taking another bite out of her cookie, her eyes still locked on Adrian.
“Thanks.”
Adrian’s gaze sears my skin as I walk to meet him. He’s hardly touched me, and he’s making me feel more butterflies than any ex-boyfriend.
This is fake. This is fake. This. Is. Fake.
I repeat the words like a mantra, but my body contradicts my thoughts as soon as Adrian places his hand on my lower back and guides me into the elevator.
A single touch has never felt so sensual, and if the effect of his touch is any indication of what’s to come, it will be a miracle if any of my rules remain standing at the end of the week.
And a part of me doesn’t think that would be so bad.
* * *
“I’m impressed,” I say, leaning back in my seat as I scan the sexual harassment and workplace conduct manual for BlackeThorne Entertainment displayed on my laptop screen. When he sent it over last night, I’d only had time to glance at it before I passed out. “I didn’t think you could do it.”
Adrian laughs—a deep rumble. “I’m glad you approve. And that you hold such a high opinion of me,” he adds, leaning forward in the seat across from mine. Thankfully, there’s a table serving as a barrier between us. Then again, there could be a brick wall, and I’d still probably feel these butterflies in my stomach knowing he’s on the other side.
“I haven’t known you long enough to form an opinion.” At least, not one that I’d like to share. He’s detail-oriented. Intense. Driven. No one could build what he has without a unique skill set. Talents. And with a body that rivals any professional athlete, it’s clear he approaches all aspects of life with the same discipline and rigor that launched him into the rarified air of the one percent of the one percent.
Which makes me wonder—why me? Why, out of everyone in the world, did he choose a stranger to pretend to be his girlfriend?
Ahem. Fake girlfriend.
“We have a long flight ahead of us. Plenty of time to… acquaint ourselves.”
I snort a laugh. “Acquaint ourselves? I’m sorry, but I’m not sure you realize how difficult it is going to be to sell this.” I motion between us.
The unperturbed expression on Adrian’s face tells a different story.
“I disagree,” he says as he stands up, sliding around the table and sitting in the seat next to mine. There goes what little barrier I had as I’m enveloped by his presence once again. His scent. It’s overwhelmingly masculine. Spicy. Woodsy. Warm like his gaze as it skims across my neckline. “I think you’ll find I can be quite persuasive.”
I swallow as I glance at his lips and then up to his eyes, ablaze as they bore into me. “I think the term you used before is convincing.”
He nods. Smiles, briefly. And again, I feel my chest and stomach constrict. “I’m that as well.”
“But it doesn’t change our situation. We know nothing about each other. And that you’ve spun an entire story about me and this relationship to your family that I haven’t had a chance to unwind, let alone memorize.”
“That’s why I emailed it to you. So you’d have time to go over the details,” he says, tapping my laptop.
“Yeah, let me pull up that novel you wrote.”
He chuckles. “Novel? I think it’s shorter than your rules list.”
I hum. “I’ll go with a creative short story, then. Because I admit, it was quite imaginative. If you spent as much time looking for a real fake girlfriend as you did creating an imaginary one, you’d have found one months ago.”
Adrian grunts in response. He leans in, and immediately it feels like the walls have closed in on me. And when his leg brushes against mine, my breath hitches in my chest, and a ghost of a smile crosses his lips.
“Let’s have a refresher, then,” Adrian rasps as the fine hairs on my neck rise.
“Okay.”
I try to ignore the smoldering eyes next to me as I navigate to my desktop. I don’t know how a man like Adrian had the time to create such a detailed backstory about a non-existent girlfriend, and I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or embarrassed for him.
I minimize the manual and— holy shit .
No.
Nonononononono.
I can feel my soul being sucked out of my body as I look at my desktop background: Adrian’s shirtless image, muscles flexing as he stares at the camera.
I’m going to kill Olivia when I get back.
I shut my laptop as fast as humanly possible, but not in time.
“If you want to see me shirtless, Ella, all you need to do is ask. As your boyfriend, I’m all yours.”
I swallow. I cough. I sputter. I make every noise in the book except an intelligible sentence because my mind is in complete disarray. Every nerve is firing. Thoughts are rising and falling in rapid succession. I… I…
“I can explain,” I say, following it up with absolutely nothing at all.
Adrian stares at me expectantly as the embarrassment spiraling through me reaches a fever pitch. Fortunately, there’s a rough bout of turbulence that breaks the tension. Unfortunately, the turbulence causes my motion sickness to kick in, and I have to race to the bathroom before I start spewing all over Adrian.
That would be an excellent cherry on top of it all. Good lord.
I lock myself inside and collapse onto the ground as my nausea swells. I’d forgotten to take my medicine in the rush to the airport. Luckily, the turbulence subsides and I can feel this bout is dissipating. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been sick like this, but then again, I steer clear of planes, cars, boats, and well, anything that moves unless forced. My legs are quite strong from all the walking.
Adrian pounds on the door. “Ella.” His voice is frantic. Pained. Urgent. “Are you okay? Let me in.” The door handle jiggles as he fumbles with it.
“I’m fine,” I say before burping. “A little motion sick.”
“Please tell me what I can do. What do you need? Water? Ginger ale? A doctor? I’ll have this damn plane turned ar?—”
“No,” I blurt, hopefully fending him off before he decides to break into the cockpit. But I can’t help but smile at his kind offer. It seems out of character for him, but then again, I hardly know him.
“There’s a pill bottle in my purse. It’s for my motion sickness. I forgot to take one before I boarded.”
I hear his thunderous footfalls as he rushes away, and within moments, he’s back. I unlock the door. There’s a pained expression on Adrian’s face.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks me, handing me the bottle.
“I’ll be fine.” I swallow, my salivary glands in overdrive. “I need some water.”
“Come,” Adrian says, grabbing my hand. That familiar feeling rises inside me as he places his hand on the small of my back and carefully guides me out of the bathroom and back to my seat, treating me as though I’m some priceless possession.
“Stay here,” he says, retreating to the back of the cabin, returning moments later with a bottle of water and some food.
“You should eat something too.”
I take the banana from the table, peeling it as I wonder how many layers there are to Adrian and whether I’ll see more of them before our “relationship” reaches the expiration date.
We’ve hardly been together for an hour, and I’m already considering bending one of my personal rules: Don’t fall for your fake boyfriend.